


Just One Night

by SomewhereFlying



Series: ShuAke Confidant Week 2018 [6]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Dirty Talk, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 16:58:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16499225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereFlying/pseuds/SomewhereFlying
Summary: His inaugural trip to the Metaverse as one of the Phantom Thieves, and of course Goro had to run into an enemy he'd never seen before - something that caught him completely by surprise. At least he'd seem less threatening to the Thieves now...But even after he left the Metaverse, it felt as thought something was off... he was starting to feel woozy, and his body was getting hot… and why did Akira look so nice all of a sudden…?ShuAke Confidant Week Day 6:Welcome|Initiation|Cheating





	Just One Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is maybe… a little bit of a stretch w.r.t. the theme. forgive me?

* * *

 

Goro was _good_ at this whole Metaverse thing, he really was. That’s why it was as much a surprise to him as it was to the rest of the Phantom Thieves that a single lash from a shadow’s tail was enough to send him flying. He could have argued that he’d never seen this strange shadow before and therefore couldn’t have been expected to predict its movements, but… that had never been a problem for him before, now had it?

The creature had lunged towards Goro like it was going to strike him, and Goro had braced himself to take the blow, but all it did was spew out a cloud of dusty powder with a horrid, acrid taste that stuck in his throat and made him choke violently, leaving him so distracted that he couldn’t possibly have dodged the second attack. He hit the ground so hard he was left temporarily reeling for breath while the other Thieves swarmed in to clear out the enemies.

This was his first proper trip into the Metaverse as one of the Phantom Thieves – their brief trek through Sae-san’s Palace had really only been to gather information – and as Akira had put it, he wanted to see where Goro was in terms of fighting ability before they launched a full exploration into the Casino. So here they were, prowling the floors of Akzeriyyuth looking for a fight, and here Goro was, flat on his back, pathetically unable to protect himself. This wasn’t even the farthest the Thieves had explored in Mementos, Goro knew – he’d followed them down even lower before. They were testing him out on weaklings, _on purpose_. And still he’d failed.

Well, at least this would help make him look less threatening, he reasoned with himself. Nothing like getting knocked on your ass by some under-leveled shadow to make you look weak and inexperienced. He could endure the humiliation for a short while if it meant the Thieves would lower their guard.

As he struggled to sit up, he could hear Sakamoto behind him, snickering like a madman, and Futaba in his ear doing the same – though trying a bit more admirably to hide it – and Goro was sure his face was turning as red as his mask. Yes, he _could_ endure the humiliation… but he didn’t have to enjoy it.

“Are you okay?”

Suddenly Akira was there, not a trace of laughter on his face as bent over and offered Goro a hand. What a gentleman, Goro thought, so ready to help the pitiful newcomer rather than mock him. Goro wanted to slap his hand away, but that would ruin the work he’d already done, so he accepted Akira’s offer and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

“I’m fine,” Goro mumbled, keeping his eyes on the ground. He dropped Akira’s hand immediately and began to dust himself off.

“Hey,” Akira said, his voice much lower now as he leaned in close, speaking to Goro and Goro alone. “Don’t listen to them. It’s happened to all of us. This just makes you one of us now.”

One of them…? Oh, that was rich – like they would have ever accepted him willingly, or at _all,_ if he hadn’t forced his way onto the team. Still, the look in Akira’s eyes… Goro wasn’t exactly an expert when it came to this kind of thing, not when most of the people he interacted with on a daily basis were compulsive liars, but it seemed sincere.

“Well, thank you, Joker,” Goro said. He forced a tepid smile to his face. “I suppose training is as much about learning to take hits as it is about landing them, isn’t it?”

That seemed to placate Akira, who grinned back before he turned to address the rest of the group, stating that it was time to head back for the day. Again, Goro felt a rush of embarrassment – they were leaving because of _him,_ because _he_ got hurt – but on the other hand, they’d been down here for going on two hours now. He wasn’t the only one looking a little worse for wear.

Morgana took a moment to shift into his bus form, and the group haphazardly piled inside. Goro somehow ended up crammed in the far backseat with Akira and Kitagawa, which surprised him – wasn’t it a bit odd that the purported leader of the group would take such sub-optimal seating? But then again, with Makoto driving and Futaba navigating, Goro supposed even Akira would be relegated to the back of the bus.

Makoto was speeding off into the tunnels the second everyone was settled and the last door had been shut, and the sudden acceleration made Goro’s stomach flip. He pushed his body down into the seat and tried to relax, but the bus was cramped and unpleasantly loud. One thing Goro had noticed on the drive down was that the Thieves _really_ liked to talk. He’d wondered at the time if it was just excess energy, if they were just excited to get to Mementos and nonstop talking was their way of expressing that, but they were equally as talkative on their drive back to the surface.

Sakamoto and Takamaki’s over-loud voices swirled together into incomprehensible garble in Goro’s mind as he tried to tune out the chatter. Now that he had the chance to rest, he could feel a dull ache growing in his head and back from where he’d hit the ground. Actually, he was sore all over now, in his legs and arms and chest – even his throat was still raw from trying to cough up that spell he’d inhaled.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat and tried to find a comfortable spot. This costume was so much more restrictive than his other outfit, Goro thought, and his discomfort was only made worse by the fact that he was pinched between the bus’s door and Akira’s body, unable to move freely. What he wouldn’t give to be wearing his bodysuit right now… he wished he’d at least been given the chance to make Crow’s clothing less stiff and scratchy, but it seemed the Metaverse would allow him no such luxury.

Makoto drove over a set of train tracks, jostling the passengers. Goro barely managed to brace himself on the row of seats in front of him and keep himself in place, but even after the ride smoothed out, his head felt like it was swimming. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. It was so stuffy in here with all these bodies… the motion, the heat, it was making him dizzy.

“Crow?”

Goro winced; Akira’s voice was much too loud and much too close. He turned his head and cracked an eye open, only to find Akira looking back at him, his concern obvious on his face.

“I’m fine,” Goro said. “Just… motion sick, I think. I’ll manage.”

Akira gave him a sympathetic smile. “We’re almost back to the entrance,” he said.

“That’s good,” Goro said, and he closed his eyes again.

Unfortunately, the darkness just caused his head to spin, and combined with Makoto’s unpredictable movements, it was almost worse for Goro to close his eyes than to keep them open. He sighed and sat upright, leaning his head against the back of the seat. His jacket was stretched too tight over his chest; it wouldn’t let him move around at all. This was hell.

The bus suddenly lurched to the left, and without any seatbelts to speak of, Akira was jostled from his seat and thrown in Goro’s direction. He managed to stop himself before he ended up in Goro’s lap, but he was still very close, so close that Goro could _smell_ him, and he wrinkled his nose, prepared for the unpleasant body odor he would have expected after a multi-hour trip through Mementos…

But surprisingly, Akira didn’t smell bad. He smelled like sweat, certainly, but it was a clean sweat, the kind that just made a person smell more like themselves, mixed with something vaguely earthy that Goro couldn’t quite place, and of course, the lingering scent of coffee. It seemed that even in the Metaverse, Akira couldn’t quite shake that smell – it stuck to him like another jacket.

It was sort of… nice. It was familiar, almost comforting. Goro thought he wouldn’t have minded if Akira had stayed there for the rest of the ride, a warm weight to keep him pinned to his seat, but Akira quickly pulled himself off of Goro, leaving just about an inch of space in between their legs.

“Sorry,” Akira said.

“It’s nothing… it can’t be helped,” Goro said, and while he quietly waited for another sharp turn, an excuse to lean in close again, it never came. The tunnels grew both wider and lighter the higher they climbed, and Makoto’s driving improved significantly along the way. In no time at all, they were back at the surface.

Goro stumbled as he clambered out of the Mona-bus, and he might have fallen completely if it weren’t for Akira, who hadn’t left Goro’s side and who took him by the arm, holding him steady.

“Oracle,” Akira called out to Futaba. “Did you get a read on that spell that hit Crow earlier?”

“Um, I don’t think so,” Futaba said. “It didn’t seem to do anything in the moment, though. Why? Is something wrong?”

“I’m just a bit dizzy,” Goro said, shaking his head. “It’s nothing, I’m certain.”

“Hmmmm… let me scan him real quick,” Futaba said. She waved her hand to one side and summoned her UFO, which hovered a few inches above Goro’s head and bathed him in a pale green light, giving him the distinctly uncomfortable sensation of being… observed. After a few seconds of studying the read-out on her suit’s monitor, she dismissed Necronomicon and shrugged. “Dunno; he seems okay from my end,” she said. “Maybe it’s fatigue from using his Persona?”

“Yes, that’s probably it,” Goro said, just to end the conversation. He _did_ remember feeling drained after he first awoke to his Persona all that time ago, and while his current symptoms were still worrying, he thought that if he could just get home, he could certainly sleep it off.

With some reluctance, Akira let him go – he obviously trusted Futaba’s judgment, even if he wasn’t completely convinced she was correct. Goro was glad for that, at least, and followed the rest of the Thieves out of Mementos.

The sun was setting when they returned to the real world. It was stunningly bright to Goro, who immediately shielded his eyes and turned his back on the sun, letting out a shaky breath as he did. It was _so_ cold, too… had it been this cold all day?

A hand came down on his shoulder and Goro jolted in place, just keeping himself from crying out in shock. He whipped his head around and found Akira staring back at him with a frown on his face.

“Maybe I should take you home,” Akira said.

Goro scowled, or tried to, but he was trying so hard not to shiver that he couldn’t get out more than a grimace.

“I’m – I’m fine, really—” Goro began.

“No, you’re not. You’re shaking; I can feel it,” Akira immediately countered. Goro shook his head, and Akira sighed, giving Goro’s shoulder a squeeze as he did. “Just let me get you back to your apartment. I don’t want you to pass out on the train.”

For a moment, Goro’s attention turned to the other Thieves, who were surreptitiously exchanging looks with each other: looks of apprehension, skepticism, disgust. The fact that they clearly didn’t want their leader going anywhere with Goro alone was enough to make him want to accept Akira’s offer, simply out of spite.

“Fine,” Goro said, his tone coming off a bit more snappish than he’d intended. Akira blinked at him from behind his glasses, which did nothing to hide the hurt expression on his face. Goro gripped the handle of his attaché case tightly, a pang of regret running through his body. “I mean… no, thank you, Akira-kun. I appreciate it,” he clarified, smiling weakly.

Akira turned back to the other Thieves to discuss… something, maybe who was taking Morgana for the time being, but Goro didn’t bother to listen. They had stepped a few paces away from him and everyone except Akira was speaking in whispers – they were trying to keep their conversation a secret, and Goro decided to let them. It wasn’t as if there was anything they could be saying that would surprise him.

The chilly November air stung his cheeks, but his body was growing warmer under his jacket, almost uncomfortably so, as heat slipped from his arms and legs and pooled in his core. His fingers felt numb and his brain felt… fuzzy. Maybe it _was_ a good idea to have an escort home after all.

Once the Thieves had finished their chat, Akira returned to Goro. He adjusted his glasses and grinned sheepishly.

“I know this was my idea and all, but… you’re going to have to lead the way for a while. What train do we need to take?” he asked.

“Ah… right, of course. Come on, follow me,” Goro said. He set off towards the train station at a slow pace, with Akira trailing just to his side. “My apartment is some ways out from the city,” he added. “You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

“That’s all the more reason,” Akira said. “If it was close, I’d feel better about letting you go alone.”

“I’m not… I can take care of myself, Akira-kun,” Goro said.

“I know that,” Akira replied. “But you can still ask for help, you know. If you need it. You’re with us now, so…” he shrugged. “Let me help you.”

Goro didn’t quite know what to say to that. Words were nothing more than empty sentiment unless they were backed up with actions, which… admittedly, Akira was attempting to do right now. It was so sickeningly honest of him and yet instead of disgust, Goro felt his chest grow tight when he listened to Akira. He couldn’t afford to believe Akira’s intentions were genuine, but nonetheless, he found himself thinking maybe… maybe this was real concern.

It was a fairly quiet time of day and the subway wasn’t very crowded, making it easy for them to find seats. They sat down side-by-side, close enough that their legs would touch if they sat casually enough, but Akira drew his legs together, pointedly giving Goro some space, just like he had back in Mementos.

It was much, much warmer inside the train, and it made Goro drowsy.

He leaned back in his seat and sighed, trying to find something to keep his mind occupied. His gaze drifted lazily around the half-full train until he had come full circle and was staring at Akira again. The setting sun filtered in through the windows and hit him in such a way that his face looked soft and round, while his dark, messy locks curled around his glasses like another mask, and overall he would have seemed perfectly meek and bookish if it weren’t for the gleam in his eyes.

 _He looks so good like this,_ Goro thought.

Then he paused.

That was strange. Hadn’t Akira always been rather plain-looking? Why did he look so nice all of a sudden? Something about the light, perhaps, or maybe it was because Goro now knew what Joker looked like up close… yes, Joker’s charisma must have seeped through into Akira. It was the only reason he could look so handsome now.

Slowly, Goro’s gaze trailed from Akira’s face down over his torso. He was just wearing his school uniform – he hadn’t bothered to change before going to Mementos – but he wore it well. Black suited Akira, and his school’s blazer accentuated his slender frame, even though it was a bit too big for him. He was heavily dressed to ward against the cold, and Goro wondered what he would look if all those layers were to be stripped away.

“How are you feeling?” Akira asked, startling him out of his trance.

“I’m fine.” Goro mumbled.

Akira fixed him with an unimpressed stare.

“Tell the truth,” he said.

“Ah… am I that transparent?” Goro asked, and tried to smile. It made him nauseous, and he dropped the grin almost instantly. “I feel… strange,” he admitted. “Anxious. Like there’s something wrong with me but I don’t know what yet… like it could overtake me at any second.”

“Are you still worried about that spell?” Akira asked, and Goro nodded. “If Oracle didn’t find anything wrong during her scan, then it was probably a dud,” he said, though he didn’t sound particularly convinced of his own words. “But it still won’t hurt to rest tonight. At least it’s Saturday… you don’t have work tomorrow, do you?”

Akira moved around while he spoke, crossing one leg over the other, and Goro found his eyes drawn to the movement. God, even the obnoxious print on his pants made Akira look good, with the way it made his long legs seem even longer, the way it followed the curve of his hips…

“Akechi?”

“W-what?” Goro stammered, snapping his eyes back up to Akira’s face. He wearing a little half-smile, and Goro felt his cheeks burn. “Oh, um. No, Sunday is one of the rare days I have completely to myself,” he said.

“That’s good,” Akira said. “Are we getting close to your stop?”

“Um…” Goro hadn’t even been paying attention. He glanced at the screen above the door and noted the upcoming stop, and thankfully, they _were_ close. “Yes; only three stops away,” he said.

Akira nodded and finally turned his attention elsewhere, staring out the window and watching the city go by. Goro let out a small, relieved sigh and slumped back into his seat. He wasn’t sure what had come over him just now… he forced those thoughts out of his brain and focused on something mundane, deciding to trace the pattern on the floor with his eyes until, at last, he heard his stop announced over the intercom.

He got to his feet, and nearly tripped when the train came to a complete stop – but he didn’t, because Akira was there again, grabbing him by the arm and keeping him standing. His grip was strong but gentle, a guiding touch, and Goro’s pulse picked up, his heart beating heavily in his chest. He let Akira lead him out the door and into the station, at which point Goro began to give him directions to his apartment complex. It wasn’t a long walk, ten minutes perhaps, but it felt like an eternity to Goro, and as the sky grew darker, it became harder and harder to see, and more than once, Goro found himself stumbling over cracks in the pavement.

“You gonna make it? I can find us a ride,” Akira said.

“No, no,” Goro said, quickly shaking his head, which was a big mistake; his mind swam and he had to stop for a minute to regain his sight. “I’m fine. I just want to get home…”

Goro’s apartment was on the second floor of his apartment building, and there were no elevators, so he and Akira climbed the stairs together until they reached Goro’s door, which he unlocked with only some difficulty. Once inside, he made his way to the couch and immediately collapsed onto it.

“Thank you… for your assistance, Akira,” he said, looking up wearily.

Across the room, Akira stood still, surveying the apartment.

“Akira-kun?” Goro asked.

“You need to eat something,” Akira said. _“Don’t_ say you aren’t hungry,” he added, when Goro opened his mouth to protest. “I remember what you said in Mementos today about only having an apple for lunch.”

Goro felt flush with embarrassment. He knew how to take care of himself – he’d been self-reliant since he was a pre-teen – and he certainly didn’t need _Akira_ of all people giving him advice… but he couldn’t deny that he needed to eat.

“Ah… very well,” he said, reluctantly getting to his feet.

“No, you stay there,” Akira said, quickly motioning for Goro to sit down. “I mean… if you have something I can prepare for you, then it’d be better for you to rest.”

“Oh,” Goro said. “Then, I… there should be some leftovers in the fridge.”

Akira nodded and moved to the kitchen, flipping the light switch on as he did. Goro allowed himself to relax back against the couch as he heard Akira start to rummage, at which point he called out, “You should get something for yourself, as well… it’s only fair.”

“You sure?” Akira’s disembodied voice responded.

“Please…” Goro said. It was hardly fair payment for all Akira had done for him today, but it was something, at least.

Akira must have found something suitable, because the next noise Goro heard was the microwave oven turning on. In short order, Akira brought over two bowls, each containing some day-old udon noodles and stir-fried veggies, which he set down on the small table to Goro’s right.

“You like take-out, huh?” Akira asked.

“I don’t have much time to cook,” Goro said, a little self-consciously, as he took the presented noodles. “There are a lot of varied options for take-out now, however… it’s not so bad.”

“Yeah,” Akira said.

They ate in silence. Goro hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he took that first bite of food, but after that he couldn’t stop himself, finishing his portion in mere minutes. He sighed and leaned back against the couch.

“How are you feeling?” Akira asked.

“I feel…” Goro trailed off. Now that the hunger was gone, he noted he was starting to feel restless in a familiar way, heat settling in between his thighs and a lump forming in his throat. It was unexpected; he almost never got these kinds of urges, so for it to happen now, while Akira was still in the room, no less… fuck, what was wrong with him?

He swallowed hard and decided to say, “I still don’t feel great.”

Akira leaned forward and pressed the back of his hand to Goro’s forehead, and Goro felt his heart leap into his throat. His touch was so warm, and Goro couldn’t help the pleasant sigh he gave; with how much Akira had touched him today, it was easy to imagine those same hands holding him down, maybe clasping his wrists above his head, or trailing over his bare skin with feather-light touches, dragging fire beneath his fingertips. Akira was such a thoughtful leader; he’d definitely know how to take care of Goro…

Akira blinked, pulling his hand back, and all at once, Goro’s mind became clear.

“Excuse me,” he said, leaping to his feet and fleeing from the living room to the bathroom, where he shut the door as delicately as he could and immediately flipped the lock. His heart was racing, his skin was burning, and he realized with a start that he was utterly, achingly _hard._

“ _Fuck,_ ” he gasped, bracing himself on his sink and staring at himself in the mirror. His cheeks were stained red and his pupils were huge; he looked so sick, it was a wonder Akira hadn’t commented.

Goro yanked his gloves off both hands and unbuckled his belt, shoving his pants partway down his thighs, just far enough that he could reach into his underwear and get a hand on his cock. When his fingers finally brushed against his length, his breath caught and his free hand flew to his mouth, smothering the moan that tried to escape.

He twisted around to stare at the bathroom door, holding his breath and listening intently. The apartment was silent… Akira must have been far enough away that he couldn’t hear.

 _Okay,_ Goro thought. _This is fine. I just need to… take care of this._

Taking a deep breath, he stroked himself experimentally, and fuck, it felt incredible, sparks of pleasure traveling from the tips of his finger through his cock and settling at the base of his spine, making the hair rise on the back of his neck. This wasn’t something that Goro deigned to do very often, but when he did, he was _never_ this sensitive; he’d barely touched himself and there was already a bead of pre-come forming at the tip, which aided the slide of his hand. He sighed as much out of delight as relief. _This_ was what he’d needed, what he’d been craving all afternoon, ever since…

Goro’s hand stopped abruptly when the realization hit. Surely this wasn’t because… there was no way there was some kind of spell that did _this,_ was there?

It was actually sort of comforting to know the cause; though it really said something about his mental state when “a monster drugged me with a magical aphrodisiac” was the _least_ embarrassing explanation for how he was acting.

He returned to his task, gently biting down on his lip and squeezing the head of his cock before picking up a quick rhythm again. Thoughts of Akira flitted through his mind, but he chased them away, trying to focus solely on the physical sensations coursing through his body and nothing more.

“Please… come on,” he whispered. Minutes passed as he sought his release desperately, his hand working furiously over his cock until his wrist started to ache, but it was no good – he couldn’t get himself there. Maybe he was nervous; he had company, after all, and he didn’t want to be heard, or maybe his brain was trying to tell him something – something like _why bother using your own hand when Akira is right outside?_

Finally he let his hand drop. All the exertion had left his cock pink and shiny, slick with pre-come, and he was breathing hard, even more obviously worked up than he had been before. If he spent any longer in here, though, Akira would start to worry, and might try to check on him… and wouldn’t _that_ be mortifying.

…it would be mortifying, wouldn’t it?

Carefully, Goro tucked himself away again and righted his pants. He was definitely visibly hard now, but what could he do about it? Nothing, really. With a defeated sigh, he washed his hands, took a moment to adjust himself in such a way that his erection wasn’t blatantly obvious, and finally returned to the living room.

Now he just needed to get Akira to leave.

He caught sight of Akira from across the room, sitting patiently on the couch and fiddling with his phone, blissfully unaware of anything that just transpired. When he heard Goro return, he looked up and smiled at him, and Goro felt his heart skip.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Akira stayed… just for a little while longer.

“Akechi,” Akira said. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. I’m sorry to worry you… I’ve only just joined the team and I’m already causing problems,” Goro said. He stopped when he was within a few feet of the couch, deciding that perhaps he shouldn’t sit down again… not next to Akira, anyway.

“That’s not true,” Akira said. “You’re really not a bother. I’m sorry we couldn’t give you a warmer welcome to the team…” He sighed and got to his feet. “Anyway, I can get out of your hair now, if you want. You probably want to rest, right?”

He was going to leave…? No, that…

“W-wait!”

Goro’s hand immediately shot out and he seized Akira by the wrist.

“Akechi?” Akira prompted.

“I… why don’t you call me Goro, Akira?” he blurted out. The thought came out of nowhere, suddenly bubbling to the surface of Goro’s distracted mind. “You call all the others Thieves by their first names, so why not me…?” He felt something tugging at his eyes – was he about to cry? Over this, of all things? He bit the inside of his cheek and blinked hard, trying to keep the tears away.

“Is that what you want?” Akira asked, and Goro nodded vigorously. “Okay… I will. I’m sorry I didn’t do it before, Goro.”

Goro sighed, his eyes fluttering shut and his fingers curling tightly around Akira’s wrist. He couldn’t help it; his name sounded so sweet and perfect on Akira’s tongue, and if he’d heard it just a few minutes ago, he was sure it’d have made him come.

Seconds later he returned to his senses and dropped Akira’s wrist as if it had burned him.

“U-um,” Akira stammered.

“A-Akira, I–” Goro choked out. His lips felt full and warm and he couldn’t resist the temptation to wet them with his tongue; he got a little thrill when he saw the way Akira’s eyes darted down to watch. “I don’t think that spell was a dud after all.”

“Yeah,” Akira said. Goro could see Akira’s throat bob as he dry swallowed. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Has it been like this all night?” he asked, and Goro nodded. “Do… you want me to leave?”

“I… I don’t know,” Goro said. “I don’t know what I want…”

Now that was a lie. He very clearly knew what he wanted, or at least his _body_ did, regardless of whether or not his brain wanted to admit it – but as addled as his mind was right now, some shred of composure was holding him back.

“Goro,” Akira said. He stepped imperceptibly closer – so close, _too_ close, reaching out and taking Goro’s bare hand in his own. “You can tell me if you need help.”

Goro let out a shaky breath as Akira rubbed his thumb over Goro’s skin, leaving goosebumps trailing up his arm. “Akira,” he whimpered. “Akira, yes, please… help.”

“What do you need?” Akira asked.

“Please, please…” Goro gasped softly. “Touch me, Akira.”

For a long, agonizing moment after the words left his mouth, he feared he had spoken too much; he buried his face against Akira’s shoulder and hid his shameful expression.

Then Akira’s voice dropped to a low, heady whisper.

“Where, Goro?” he asked, and Goro shuddered.

“Anywhere, everywhere – it all feels so good,” Goro said. He turned his head and looked up at Akira, whose eyes were huge, his pupils already dilated to accommodate the low light and only growing darker now. “I feel so hot, but your touch… you feel incredible, Akira.”

 _“God,”_ Akira sighed. “Okay… tell me if you want me to stop.”

He started out slow, almost hesitant: with one hand, he traced the length of Goro’s arm, running all the way up to his shoulder and curling around his neck, while with the other, he laced his fingers with Goro’s, his thumb never ceasing to make those maddeningly soft circles against the back of his hand. His fingertips were pleasantly cool against Goro’s skin, which was alight with a fire that only Akira’s delicate touch could quell.

As soon as he realized Goro was responding positively to his ministrations, Akira grew bold, sliding his hand down the seam between Goro’s waist and hip before finally pressing a palm over his trapped cock. Goro let out a breathy groan, his hips jerking forward involuntarily – even over his clothes, Akira’s hand felt better than Goro’s own. His reaction did nothing but encourage Akira, who started to rub Goro over his slacks in earnest, slinking his free hand around Goro’s waist to grope at his ass.

Goro wrapped his arms around Akira’s shoulders and clung to him. After all the work he’d done earlier, bringing himself to the brink of orgasm but unable to find release, he found himself immediately grinding into Akira’s hand, already back on the edge. And then Akira squeezed him _just so_ , and Goro couldn’t help it; he came while rutting against Akira’s palm, gasping and panting into his shoulder.

 _That was… so embarrassing,_ Goro thought, but at least it was over now. He was obviously incredibly keyed-up and had been all evening, so it was no surprise that it only took some enthusiastic groping to really set him off. Surely Akira would understand.

“You good?” Akira asked him as he pried his face from the crook of Akira’s neck.

Goro opened his mouth to answer in the affirmative, but in that moment, he noticed something. His orgasm had been satisfying to be sure, but it did nothing to dispel the weird feeling he’d had all night; his mind still felt fuzzy, his limbs still felt numb… and he was still hard.

Fuck.

“I'm… I'm not…” Goro's whole body trembled, and he bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stave off the tremors. 

“Hey,” Akira said, brushing Goro’s bangs off his forehead, which was shiny with sweat. “You need some more, right?” he asked.

Goro nodded weakly.

“Let me help you,” Akira said.

“I – I can’t ask that of you,” Goro said.

“I want to,” Akira said. “You’re suffering.”

“I couldn’t force you to—“

“You’re not forcing me – I’m offering. Anything you want, Goro; just tell me.”

Some distant part of Goro’s brain told him he should be worried about that.

A much more urgent part told him to ask, “Then… will you kiss me?”

Akira blinked, and then he broke out into a smile. “Of course,” he murmured, taking Goro’s chin in his hand and drawing him into a kiss.

Goro didn’t consider himself to be an expert on romance, but that was how he would describe Akira’s kiss: romantic. It was slow and unhurried, Akira tilting his own head to meet Goro’s mouth more easily, swiping his tongue lazily across his lips, and all the while he rubbed his thumb along Goro’s jaw in a soothing, pleasant motion – like he was petting him.

It wasn’t Goro’s first kiss, but it might as well have been, because he had _never_ been kissed like this before. Akira seemed uninterested in anything but what they were doing right now, as if kissing Goro was the only thing that mattered. They broke apart, gasping for breath, and together they tumbled to the couch in a pile of limbs and nerves, whereupon Goro chased after Akira’s lips, eager for more. Akira chuckled, grabbing Goro by the waist and pulling him into his lap, and for a brief moment Goro’s mind… stilled.

Because Akira was hard, too.

Goro could feel it as clearly as he felt his own arousal: Akira was _hard_ and trying not to be obvious about grinding against Goro’s thigh. This was no longer something he could play off as a leader coming to assist their injured teammate… Akira was honestly enjoying himself. And Goro – god, he didn’t know the last time anything had felt so good.

The least Goro could do was offer up his mouth as thanks, right?

“You’re hard,” Goro murmured against Akira’s neck.

Akira laughed. “I know… I’m sorry. Can you blame me?” he asked.

“That’s not what I meant,” Goro said, and he pushed himself up off of Akira’s chest. “Akira, can I… I want to…”

Akira looked at him expectantly. “Tell me what you want,” he repeated.

Of course – that had been Akira’s mantra since they started. So Goro crawled forward until he was straddling Akira’s waist, looped his arms around his shoulders, and said, “Let me suck you off.”

Akira groaned softly, his head lolling back against the couch. “If that’s what you want, Goro, then… god, please.”

Anticipation surged through Goro’s limbs and he immediately dropped to his knees in front of the couch. He tugged on Akira’s belt loops, dragging him closer to the edge of the cushion before turning his attention to Akira’s belt. With Akira’s assistance, it was quickly discarded, and Akira sat up for a moment so he could unzip his jeans and push them down until they pooled around his ankles, where it was easy for him to kick them off.

Goro almost moaned outright at nothing more than the _sight_ of Akira’s cock. It was hard and dripping and a bit longer than Goro’s, if he had to judge its size, and gently curved in a lewd, inviting way that made Goro want to wrap a hand around its base and give Akira a quick tug. He did, and all the air left Akira’s lungs.

“F-fuck, Goro,” he said.

Goro parted his lips just slightly, enveloping the tip of Akira’s cock in his mouth, and immediately Akira’s hand flew to Goro’s head. He threaded his fingers through Goro’s hair and in response, Goro pressed forward, sinking his mouth over the entirety of Akira’s dick.

He’d never done this before, but still Goro took in all of Akira that he could, took him in until his cock brushed the back of his throat; he buried his nose in Akira’s pubic hair and breathed in his scent, which was musky and heady and _so good_ that it made Goro light-headed. He pulled back and lavished some attention on the tip of Akira’s dick, which was spilling pre-come into Goro’s mouth; greedily, he lapped away at it, swallowing it all down.

“God,” Akira’s voice nearly cracked, “that’s — amazing. Goro, you feel amazing...”

Goro shuddered with a delight nearly as pleasurable as his earlier orgasm, just from hearing Akira’s words of praise. He dropped a hand to his lap and palmed over his cock, trying desperately to chase the wave that might lead him to his next orgasm.

It was an act that did not go unnoticed by Akira. “Did you like that?” he asked, breathlessly. “Do – do you want me to tell you? How good you’re doing?”

Goro slipped off his cock, a trail of pre-come and saliva dripping from his tongue.

“Please,” he gasped, and immediately sank back down, swallowing Akira’s dick.

“Fuck,” Akira intoned. “Your mouth is incredible, Goro. I – I can’t believe how good you are at this. You’re making me feel - I’ve _never_ felt like this…”

Goro whined, picking up his pace and bobbing over Akira’s dick with feverish passion.

“Y-you got me so close already, Goro, that’s how incredible you are—“

Goro hollowed out his cheeks and sucked until it hurt.

“I’m— fuck, I’m gonna come; coming, Goro, _Goro—“_

Akira’s grip in Goro’s hair tightened until it was almost painful, and his whole body shook as he came down Goro’s throat, thrusting erratically and riding out his orgasm. Goro kept still, swallowing and swallowing until there was nothing left and he felt Akira growing soft in his mouth, at which point he finally let go. His eyes were glazed over and he felt dazed, but satisfied.

Wow. He could get used to doing that. He’d do that to Akira every day, if that was what Akira wanted.

Akira slipped from the couch onto the ground and nearly tackled Goro into a kiss. Goro melted into the touch. His tongue was still slippery with Akira’s come, but Akira didn’t seem to mind one bit, and soon Akira was touching him again, unzipping his jeans and shoving them down his legs, revealing Goro’s come-soaked underwear; his cheeks flared with embarrassment, but Akira merely tossed the soiled garment to the side without any comment. Then, with no fabric to act as a barrier, Akira set to work running his hands all over Goro’s legs, over his calves, his thighs, his balls – everywhere but his cock.

“D-don’t tease me…” Goro muttered, flexing his hips up. He needed _someone’s_ hand on his dick right this second, even if it had to be his own.

Akira’s hand was around his wrist faster than he could blink, grabbing tightly and holding him still.

“Akira!” Goro whined, struggling against his grip.

“It won’t work if it’s your own, right? That’s what it sounded like earlier… I heard you trying.”

“You were eavesdropping? You’re… perverted,” Goro muttered, turning his cheek. So Akira _had_ heard, after all… somehow, he no longer had the strength to be mad about that.

Akira frowned. “I wasn’t trying to spy on you,” he said. “I really thought you were sick, and I was gonna ask if you needed anything. I just… got distracted when I heard you.”

“O-oh,” Goro said.

“It… kinda turned me on, actually,” Akira admitted. “To know you were sneaking around, trying not to get caught… I know it’s because of the spell, not because of me, but… just indulge me a little, okay?”

The spell…? Yes, that’s right; this was all because of that damn spell. That had to be why Goro found it so satisfying to suck Akira’s cock. That would explain the feeling in the pit of his stomach, too, the way his whole body tingled when Akira looked at him… it was just the spell, certainly. Before he had the chance to question it any further, however, Akira wrapped his hand around Goro’s dick, squeezing and giving him a few teasing pumps.

“You’re close, right?” he asked.

 _“Yes,”_ Goro moaned, thrusting his hips up in an attempt to get more friction on his cock.

Akira gave a breathy moan and sped up, fondling Goro’s balls with his free hand, which caused Goro to nearly choke from the intense wave of pleasure that rocked through his frame. “You did so well,” he said. “You deserve this. C’mon Goro, let me see you come…”

That was all he needed to hear; Goro cried out, his hips stuttering and suddenly he was coming on Akira’s hand, even more intensely than the first time. When it was finally done, he dropped his head and lay flat on the ground, trying to catching his breath. Distantly, above him, he heard Akira’s voice:

“Fuck… You’re still hard.”

“I know, I know,” Goro groaned. He looked down his chest at Akira and asked, “Can you go again?”

“Me?” Akira asked.

“Yes.”

Akira blew out a long breath. “Yeah, probably. What, ah… did you have in mind?” 

Goro got to his knees in front of Akira, who was staring at Goro with wide-eyed anticipation, and crawled forward until he was close enough to kiss him softly. Yes, both of the orgasms he’d had so far had been nice and all, but the haze in his mind hadn’t cleared – that spell wasn’t going away.

He knew what would take care of it, though.

They broke their kiss and against Akira’s lips, Goro murmured, “Akira, will you… I want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck, Goro,” Akira hissed, pressing their foreheads together hard enough to sting. “God. Yes. Yeah, okay, just… just give me a minute. Do you have lube?”

Goro nodded and scrambled to his feet; he wobbled, but he had a destination in mind and the right motivation to get there, stumbling into his room without bothering to turn on the light and retrieving a small bottle of lube from his beside drawer, right where he knew it would be.

“Still okay?” Akira asked when he returned.

“I – yes,” Goro said. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Akira said, though he didn’t yet take the lube from Goro’s outstretched hand. Something about his demeanor had changed. “I just… don’t want you to do something you regret.”

It was far too intimate a conversation to be having when neither of them were wearing pants. Goro didn’t want to think about this right now; he wanted to revel in the freedom the spell was granting him, in the chance to pursue his desires without consequence. Because this _was_ something he desired - _Akira_ was something he desired. This kind of relationship could never last between the two of them – Goro was all too aware of that – but maybe, just for tonight, they could pretend…

Goro pressed the bottle into Akira’s hand and said, “I could never regret being with you like this, Akira.”

The kiss Akira gave him just then was different than any they’d shared thus far. It was warm and full of promise, like Akira was trying to tell him something… Goro wished he knew what that was.

When they finally did pull away, however, the only thing Akira said was: “Bend over for me, okay?”

Goro was happy to oblige. He placed his hands on the back of the couch and bent at the waist – such an embarrassing position, but he felt no shame, only blissful anticipation. He inhaled sharply when he felt Akira’s warm hands spreading his cheeks apart, thumbing over his hole, and then a single slick finger trailing along the rim of his asshole, pressing in teasingly.

“Ah, Akira, you don’t need to…” Goro began, craning his neck around to look at Akira. “I’m ready; I don’t need any prep,” he said, and he didn’t know how he knew that, but it was definitely true. The spell, perhaps – that was his excuse for so many, many things that had already occurred this evening – had left him loose and pliant and aching to be filled.

“It’s not for you,” Akira said. “I still need to recover, and… I want to feel you.”

He was smiling, but he couldn’t look Goro in the face, and Goro could swear he saw a hint of a blush growing across his cheeks. He found his impatience dripping away.

“If that’s okay with you,” Akira added after a moment of silence.

“Oh, of… of course,” Goro said, turning back around to lean more comfortably against the couch back. “Go ahead.”

Akira worked him open slowly, kneading his ass with one hand while crooking a finger inside him with the other. It was just as Goro had imagined it would be: Akira was _so_ thoughtful, listening closely to every noise Goro made and reacting accordingly, careful not to move so fast as to hurt him, and always, always seeking out the spot that made Goro gasp and shake.

It was almost too much to handle. As Akira’s fingers brushed up against Goro’s prostate, it seemed as though every nerve in his body reacted, resulting in a dizzying combination of pleasure and pain, the likes of which Goro had never experienced before.

“You’re so loose for me,” Akira said, sounding practically in awe as he curled his finger up, rubbing against Goro’s hole with his thumb.

“Akira, ah… ‘kira,” Goro moaned. He felt another orgasm sneak up on him, quick and unexpected, and he hastily reached between his legs and stroked his cock, coming in seconds, a weak, jerky spurt of come dribbling over his fingers.

“Did you come again?” Akira asked. “You squeezed my fingers so much…”

Goro could do little more than whimper in reply, his voice turning into a prolonged whine when Akira pulled his fingers out and stood up.

“I’m ready, but… will you be able to handle this?” Akira asked, smoothing a hand over the small of Goro’s back. “I’d love to fuck you, but you seem a little…”

“It’s… a lot,” Goro admitted, even as he pushed back against Akira’s erection. “It’s raw, it hurts, but Akira, I _need_ this, so please… please, Akira…”

“Okay. I’ll just – wait.” Goro heard Akira rummage through his jacket, and then he swore loudly to himself.

Goro’s eyes flew open and dread filled his heart. “What? What is it?” he asked.

“I just – I don’t have a condom,” Akira said.

 _That_ was all? “Akira, I don’t – I’m clean,” Goro said. He twisted his neck to look over his shoulder at Akira. “You are too, right? You wouldn’t have let me suck you off if you weren’t…”

The look on Akira’s face told Goro that he’d already made up his mind – there was certainly no going back from this now that they were here.

“Clean up’s gonna be awful, you know,” Akira said, more out of formality than anything.

“I don’t care. Please,” Goro begged, “Please, Akira, don’t deny me this… I need you.”

“Goro,” Akira murmured in the most breathy, impossibly arousing voice Goro had ever heard, right as he dipped forward and pressed his lips between Goro’s shoulder blades. “Okay. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you…”

Something deep in Goro’s heart throbbed in the same moment that Akira finally pressed into him, and Goro wondered if this was what love felt like.

He spread his legs as wide as he could, bending over the unyielding couch as he opened up for Akira’s cock. He was so big, so much more than his fingers had been, but it was all the more satisfying for it; Akira filled him up and made him feel whole.

And then he started to move.

Akira held tight to his hips and fucked him with a restraint that Goro had long since lost. It was slow at first, steadily growing faster, harder, until he grazed some spot deep inside him that made Goro cry out. Under normal circumstances, he was certain he’d have been ashamed of the way he couldn’t hold back his needy moans, but Akira responded so well when he was vocal that if anything, it encouraged Goro to be louder.

“God, I…” Akira growled out something incomprehensible. “You sound so good. Your voice… you’re so hot, Goro. So sexy. You’re driving me crazy…” and then for a moment Akira’s rhythm faltered as he chased his own pleasure, his hips snapping forward with an intensity that nearly took Goro’s breath away.

“D-deep,” Goro managed to say. His thighs were trembling under his own weight and he shoved his face into the couch cushion, biting down on the taut fabric, just trying to keep a hold of himself as Akira’s cock hit him raw and hard in exactly the right spot. “You’re so— _haa, Akira—_ “

“Goro,” Akira groaned, fucking erratically into Goro’s tight heat, his fingers gripping so hard it hurt. “Y-you suck me in so well; I can’t last…”

“Akira.” Goro could feel the heat coiling in his gut, so very, very close to the edge. “Akira, touch me. _Please._ ”

Akira wrapped his hand around Goro’s cock and stroked him with an unsteady gait, jerking him quickly until his hand just stopped and squeezed, and Goro could feel the moment Akira’s orgasm hit, spilling wave after wave of hot come deep inside him. Goro thrust forward into Akira’s hand until he himself found release, getting off on the sensation of being filled up.

For a moment, neither of them moved, and the only sound was that of their labored breathing. Goro lifted his head from the couch and looked down at his thankfully softening cock.

“Thank god,” he sighed, slumping over the couch. Behind him, he heard Akira laugh, just a little breathlessly.

“Don’t get too excited, now… you’ll make me feel bad,” he said.

Goro didn’t answer other than to give a weak chuckle. Slowly, Akira pulled out of him, leaving him feeling empty in the best way: having been thoroughly fucked. It didn’t even register to him that Akira briefly left the living room, dipping into the bathroom and coming back with a warm, damp towel. They cleaned up as best they could, but sleep was starting to cloud Goro’s mind; he’d used so much energy while under the effects of that spell, and now his fatigue was catching up to him.

He didn’t protest, or even ask why, when Akira led him to his bedroom and helped him into bed, and when Akira started to head for the door, the only thing Goro could ask was, “You’re leaving…?”

He was too tired to mask the hurt in his voice, to hide the way it made his heart ache to think that after all that, Akira was just going to leave, like he’d gotten what he wanted from Goro and didn’t want to stick around now that he was satisfied. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He shouldn’t even be _angry,_ but he couldn’t bring himself to steel his heart – he simply didn’t have the energy.

But then Akira returned to his side, smiling as he pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Of course not,” he said, his voice laced with sweet tones that soothed Goro’s anxieties instantly. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable if I slept on the couch?”

“No… I’d like you to stay,” Goro murmured. He still felt strange, and the thought of having Akira by his side all night… it was a nice one.

“Okay,” Akira said. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want,” Goro repeated, and when Akira finally turned out the light and lowered himself onto the bed, Goro took him by the hand and tugged weakly. “Then, can you…”

“Can I…?” Akira prompted him.

“Ugh,” Goro whined; Akira was such a tease, even now. He was going to make Goro say it. “…Cuddle with me,” he mumbled into the pillow.

Akira laughed.

“Of course, honey,” he said, and wound his arm around Goro’s torso, bringing their bodies flush together. Goro let out a happy sigh, leaning back against Akira.

 _We fit so well together,_ he thought, as his mind drifted off into sleep.


End file.
